


Fast Talking Skinny Boys

by heylintrash (finesharp)



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 01:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finesharp/pseuds/heylintrash





	1. Chapter 1

My relationship with the monks had gotten weird since I started college. I didn’t have as much time to chase down shen gong wu, and I didn’t really need them either, but I kept going. It started out as habit, and I guess to be honest I’m also pretty lonely on campus. I mean some of the people in my engineering program are cool, and I’m playing in a vampire LARP on alternate Friday nights, but even with the Satanists and the pagans, what I’ve been into and what they’re into are… it’s like I’m talking in C++ and they’re talking Javascript, like they seem like they’re almost the same thing but they’re really not.

So I show up and we mess around and I get much more interesting field data on whatever bot improvements I’m working on, and I’ve learned to cut my losses when things get above my pay grade, and sometimes after we get pizza together or something. The first time I actually took them out for ice cream I think there was actual concern it might be a trap, but now it’s got the weight of habit and it’s like we can clock out after Chase or Wuya or Hannibal leaves.

Evil is a lifestyle commitment I’m just not into anymore, I guess. I’m more into #evilaesthetic these days. World domination can wait until I have a little more free time. Maybe spring break.

Not that I was going to say that when Chase Young showed up in my dorm.

There was the good ol’ Chase Young Sneer at my workspace - the dorm room was better lit than my basement at home but no less crowded - and the fact that I was soldering in my boxers and a ratty t-shirt. Nice to know some things don’t change, especially immortal dragon warriors, right?

And speaking of things that don’t change, when he put his hand on my shoulder I jumped about a foot in the air, burning my fingers in the process, and yelped like a castrato. 

“Surely you’ll outgrow this mess at some point, boy. Haven’t you learned to dress yourself?" 

I shrugged and pushed my safety goggles up on my forehead. "You want me to look nice, give me some warning. I put pants on when people knock.”

“Still mouthy, at least. I had wondered if the monks had knocked all of the fight out of you.”

I winced a little at that. I’d been holding out hope that maybe the big guns hadn’t noticed I was getting comfortable with the monks, but I guess that was just wishful thinking.

Chase, of course, was reading my face like an open book. “I don’t know if the others have noticed, but it had occurred to me to wonder where your loyalties lie these days.”

“With myself, duh,” I glared at him. Something about Chase always made me feel like I was fifteen again. The fact that I didn’t have pants on wasn’t helping.

“So if there were something in it for you, you’d be open to doing something… evil to one of the monks?”

Well we were definitely going somewhere specific, weren’t we? I turned off the soldering equipment and pulled on my jeans, hoping to add some dignity to this conversation. “Depends on the monk, and the evil, and what’s in it for me.”

Chase smirked at that. “Well, Spicer, have you noticed that since the Dragons of Air and Fire only have eyes for each other, Bailey has been a bit distracted?”

I thought back to the last time I’d seen the monks. Rai and Kimiko were practically in each others’ laps the whole time I’d been there, and that was pretty distracting. I hadn’t paid much attention to Clay. He was pretty much always the same, wasn’t he?

“You pay a lot of attention to the monks’ social lives, don’t you?” I sat down on my bed and gestured that he could join me. Chase looked somewhat suspect at the unmade bed, but sat anyway.

“It’s relevant to my plans. How else would I have noticed that the Dragon of Earth seems to have a type, and it’s fast-talking skinny boys? With Pedrosa distracted, I suspect that another fast-talking skinny boy is in an excellent position to make a move.”

“Wait. Do you mean… Are you… matchmaking?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. Having Bailey on the Heylin side would be extremely useful to me for a variety of reasons, and it occurred to me that you are uniquely in a place to help with that.”

“You want me to seduce Clay Bailey to evil.” I just about doubled over laughing. 

Chase cleared his throat, annoyed, and I gave myself a coughing fit in an attempt to calm down. 

“I just don’t… what’s in it for me?”

“You don’t find Bailey attractive?”

I didn’t answer that but I could feel myself blushing. Damn complexion.

“Regardless of that, I would be very… appreciative of your help.” And that was when I noticed that Chase Young’s hand was on my thigh. I was suddenly very glad I had put pants on. Not that Chase didn’t know the effect he had on me.

“That’s not actually an answer…” I said, but it came out as more of a whimper than the hard-line negotiating tactic I’d been aiming for.

And then as suddenly as it had happened, Chase was standing, looking down at me. “Have some fun, if you’re interested. It may go nowhere, of course. If you have some luck, I’ll talk to you about the next step in my plan.”

Then he was gone, and it was a while before I got back to my circuit boards.


	2. Chapter 2

I have never been good at acting casual, but somehow the importance of what I was doing made me even worse than usual. While I’d never actively thought about Clay in a, you know, sexy way before, there was something about the way he stood over me that I thought I could appreciate. Looking for him out of the corner of my eye was distracting, though.

It was Clay who finally said something, because of course it was. “You look about as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full a rocking chairs.”

“You know, I’ve actually heard that terrible metaphor before,” I answered, my mouth ahead of my brain.

“I ain’t surprised, that was one a my Granma Lily’s favorites,” he said, “cept it’s a simile.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Metaphor’s when yer saying something is something else. Simile’s when it’s like it.”

“Oh! Oh, right,” I stammered, freshman English rules gently bobbing to the surface in my brain. “So can I talk to just you for a minute?”

Clay looked around. “Sure looks like you got me.”

I laughed nervously. “Okay, well. I was wondering if you were interested in, um. Um. Would you go out with me?”

The cowboy looked more confused than anything by my question, and even as he started to blush I was sure he’d turn me down. It was amazing to watch someone blush even harder than me for once in my life, and I told myself that that alone was worth it.

“This ain’t something you got put up to on account a Kim and Rai, is it?”

“What? No,” I said again, stumbling for a way to explain without giving myself away with a bad lie. “None of the monks know I’m doing this.”

He looked like he was thinking about it, which seemed unbelievable all by itself, and then he nodded, his jaw set like the hero in a western. “Then I sure will.”

I was silent an embarrassingly long time, as I hadn’t really planned for what to say if he said yes. Who knew any evil plan could be this easy?


	3. Chapter 3

I kept the first date simple, not wanting to scare Clay off. Dinner in a Shanghai restaurant that wasn’t fancy but had a hell of a reputation. An American movie in a theater, something I could tell from Clay’s reaction he didn’t get to do often. This wasn’t a race.

I let him tell me when he was ready to do it again. I wanted him to feel comfortable.

When the time came for a second date I decided to get a little more elaborate. Remembering an offhanded comment or two, I arranged tickets for the world figure skating championships in Seoul. After, we went to my favorite restaurant in town.

Dissecting the routines kept us busy for a while, but near the end of the meal Clay got quiet. I could practically see him thinking, his brow furrowing as the gears clicked.

“You’re the loudest thinker I’ve ever dated,” I told him. “What’s bugging you?”

He waited another long minute before answering me. “So tell me true, Jack. What’s keeping you on the heylin side? You ain’t like Wuya or Hannibal or Chase is, even I can see that.”

That was… not what I was expecting.

“Whatever ‘good’ means, I’m not that, Clay. I’m selfish, whiny, and basically a jerk. You gotta know that if you’re gonna date me.”

“None of those’re something one of us ain’t been guilty of.” He reached across the table to take my hand and I almost pulled away from him.

“Yeah, but I’m not interested in changing.” I wondered what he was thinking. Was this supposed to be some kind of intervention?

“You already changed from how you was when we were kids.”

I shrugged. “Nobody else is looking out for me, so I have to look out for myself first.”

He looked… well, he looked sad at that. “Well and if this went somewhere, Jack, you’d have me looking out. You reckon that’d change anything?” He seemed to be taking this so much more seriously than I’d intended, so much so that I felt kind of bad.

But only a little bit, because, hello, still evil.

In fact, that wasn’t a bad point to make…

“If it’s so easy to switch, Clay, why shouldn’t I ask you to be heylin? Could you even imagine that?”

I was expecting a quick denial, but there was another long pause, this one awkward enough that I was afraid maybe I’d offended him.

“I can’t rightly say I’m better folks than Raimundo or Omi. I s'pose I think there’s circumstances as could change anyone’s mind near about anything.”

“Yeah, but that was what, like, ten minutes Rai was heylin? I’ve been good for ten minutes, I distinctly remember it not working out.”

“That coulda gone better but it don’t mean you can’t.”

I laughed it off. “Unless you want to try being heylin for ten minutes, Clay, can we table this? I’m having fun, I think you’re attractive, isn’t that good enough for now?”

“I reckon it is for now,” he answered. “Didn’t you say something about dessert?”


	4. Chapter 4

I didn’t want to wait for Chase to show up after /that/ conversation; I wanted to see how he thought I should proceed. It had been a few years since I’d tried to infiltrate his lair last, and I landed with some trepidation on the edge of the precipice at the entrance. Two of Chase’s giant cats were there, a tiger and a cheetah, pacing anxiously. So anxiously, in fact, that that didn’t bother to acknowledge me at first.

“Something wrong?” I asked the tiger. I didn’t expect a response but he turned and looked pointedly at the throne room. 

I followed his gaze and then stepped into the throne room. Chase was on the far side, having a conversation with… someone. He was taller then Chase, and looked maybe Persian or Hindu or maybe northern Africa? It was hard to tell from over here, but he was awfully close to Chase and leering kind of a lot and reminded me of no one so much as my last boyfriend, who didn’t understand boundaries unless they came with explicit directions.

I looked down at the tiger sitting expectantly at my feet. “So what, you want me to interrupt Chase talking to somebody?”

The cat didn’t answer.

“This is a bad idea.” But the longer I watched, the less it seemed like a balanced conversation and the more it seemed like Chase was just nodding along, not able to see clearly.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” I started, launching myself at the space between them. The mystery man startled just a little and stepped backwards. Chase shook his head almost as if he’d just woken up.

“Break it up in public, you two,” I said to the other man. “Chase is-”

“-not interested, actually,” Chase finished my sentence, glaring at the unfamiliar face, much angrier than he’d been a minute ago. He punctuated the sentence with a growl, and the other man stepped back, looking almost penitent before disappearing. 

I watched him go, unimpressed. “Sorry if I interrupted something important but that guy was giving off some serious creeper ex-boyfriend vibes.”

“That was Hannibal Roy Bean, Spicer. And that is… not the words I would have chosen, but I suppose they’re not incorrect.”

“You and Hannibal- ew.”

“He could have killed you, you know.”

I shrugged. “And so could pretty much everyone else I interact with on a daily basis. If I didn’t make a habit of annoying people who could kill me, I’d never have talked to you.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response.

“So since when does Hannibal look like /that/?”

Chase’s gaze drifted. “That’s what he looked like when I met him.”

I scratched my head, trying to picture the scene. “I always just imagined, like, him as a bean, offering you a can of evil soup.”

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” he shook his head, and I almost thought he was laughing. “Before I met him, I’d only seen skin darkened by years of farming in the bright sun. I was frustrated with the temple, and with myself, and he swept in with skin like dark amber and flashing green eyes and all the answers to questions I hadn’t let myself ask and all the power to fulfill my dreams.”

“And then eventually it went all Taylor Swift, huh?”

Chase squinted and I threw up my arms in surrender. “Pop culture reference, sorry.”

“It was easier when he was locked away. It’s much easier not to think of someone when they’re not hanging around and getting in your way.”

I nodded. “You can’t just put him back, right? I guess you would have already.”

“It was three quarters luck that I locked him away in the first place. I was younger, more flexible, more confident. To destroy Hannibal, I would need a plan that he similarly didn’t see coming.”

I nodded. “That’s why you want Clay.”

“There can only be one Heylin Master of an element at once, despite our longevity. You can do the math there, Jack.”

This was turning out to be a lot more complicated than I’d realized. “You put him in the Yin Yang universe in the first place, though. If you had both yo-yos…”

He shook his head. “It needs to be destruction this time. You know how I feel about those toys.”

I laughed. “I don’t even know where they are anyway. I haven’t seen them since that time with Wuya… well, you know.” I thought back. “I’ve never seen you affected by the yo-yos, have I?”

And sure enough, somehow I’d missed that thought. Chase didn’t dignify the mental image with a response, though, so I kept talking. 

“I was sort of considering scaring up one of the yo-yos and sending Good Me on a date with Clay, just to see what he thought. But Good Me would probably give away the plan.”

Chase nodded. “He’s rather invested in telling the whole truth, no matter what.”

“Unless I could convince him it was for the greater good…” and then I stopped and realized what I’d just said. “Wait. What if I could convince Clay that being Heylin and destroying Hannibal was for the greater good?”

“Interesting…”

“Can someone who’s still good even do that? Like fight for the Heylin seat?”

“That’s a good question,” he looked thoughtful. “At the core, though, being Heylin is about a kind of selfishness… the kind it takes to decide that you’re going to sacrifice yourself to stop evil. Whether or not that’s objectively good is a secondary question to whether you’re going to do it by yourself.”

“So… yes, he can do that, is what you’re saying.”

“Bring me a Clay Bailey who’s prepared to challenge Hannibal Bean,” Chase declared, “and I’ll consider you a success, Spicer.”

Well then. Chase had never considered me a success at anything, as far as I knew. Suddenly my mission was more important than ever.


End file.
